Thursday, 7 July 2011

Boaz is his Washpot

We’re very literal here in Tolly Maw and that’s why our houses keep falling down. Mervyn’s did just this morning, ours untouched though they adjoin. The workers are still out there though they’ve made very little progress, in their aprons and sashes (and in some cases small bowler hats). Because if you want stonework done here then the Masons have that sewn up, albeit and less of them now than this morning.

I asked, as you do – especially if you’re a Mason – about all this guarding of the holy blood and the secrets of the ages. The Worshipful Master confessed with a sigh and on the level, that mostly what they did was raise money for the community. The village minibus for example. There’s not a devil amongst them and they very rarely plot at all. At which point two of them left, Oz and Wayne, black balling themselves though would later claim to have been hoodwinked. The first I hear only joined as he had on very good authority that Jayne Mansfield made the tea. Having lived everywhere and my Dad being dead I admitted when asked to being a travelling man, and that yes – I was a widow’s son.

‘So you don’t worship Bahomet?’ I ask.

‘And nor did the Templars,” says the Worshipful Master (in fact Ming the vicar I am pleased to say). But admitting this he loses a third, Moxey, to the pub. I confess I don’t know much about the craft other than the Security Service operating out of the big lodge in London – according to Spooks. I remember something about the old Goose & Gridiron being where they got together to unite but Worshipful Master Ming waves such off. ‘London...’ he says, his voice heavy with menace. Though note I've also heard him ask for a packet of wine gums in a voice heavy with menace so it’s hard to read anything into it

It’ll be dark soon and I’ve made them more tea. Mervyn’s cottage is still half rubble but after much ceremony Dennis and Barry use a small pulley to set one stone in place and with much ceremony. The tools they otherwise have look great for technical drawing in the 4th year O level (plus a trowel, but no cement).

We chat and the Worshipful Master Reverand Ming points out that they publish the dates of their meetings in the Parish magazine, and they’re always at the Supreme Being And Templar pub. I’ve looked it up to and he’s right, it’s there in the Freemasons And Women’s Institute Section Tuesday 12th, Lodge Meeting. Agenda, Dan Brown Gets us Laid, Fund Raising, Brotherly Love, Relief, Truth, The Abyss, Total World Domination, Character Generation, So Mote It Be.

‘Brotherly Love?’

Ming hisses and throws down the purple smoke. When it clears he is hurrying down the garden path.

About Me

I write because as a fine author recently said, we have to. I write for work, each day - when I put in as best I can a working day for a narrative PBeM. That's been me for nearly fifteen years. I write an hour on other stuff for myself and typically just playing around - but like drawing, it relaxes me. And all this nowadays in bits, spits and biscuit crumbs what with the shining light of my better-half working and I then with the children around that. And I'm the better for it, even if work to be fair suffers a little for my refreshed sanity.
Now I also Blog because I've been told time and again that one needs a web presence, and I do this when the kids are down for the night and I in the next room wait to make sure.
And we love you.